Russian Roulette
by IcedCoffeeCat
Summary: After being betrayed by his former friend, Niko Bellic has no choice but to flee Hove Beach. While hiding in Mallorie's apartment, Niko receives a call from someone within Dimitri's own family. Sam offers him a deal; money, for the chance to destroy Dimitri's organization. The offer sounds good, but raises a very important question: Can this stranger be trusted?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Our little story picks up right after the Russian Revolution mission in GTA IV, where Dimitri betrays Niko to Bulgarin, but before he has taken any jobs from Manny or Brucie. This is my first attempt at anything kin to a GTA/Video Game fanfic, so please read and feel free to review, if you want to!

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><p>Niko's body ached all over.<p>

It wasn't even the nice sort of pain, the kind you got after a good job and a good rush of adrenaline; this was the kind of pain that just drained all the energy from you, made it hurt to walk around the apartment or to even leave the bed. Even so, even with the pain, Niko had forced himself to get a shower (it was cold), and to eat something (it had tasted like shit). Even if he was in a bad way, and even if his cousin was justifiably angry with him for trusting that Russian scum, he had to keep himself alive. God only knew what sort of trouble Roman would get into if he died. That wasn't even mentioning the indignity of dying of starvation after surviving an ambush like that.

It was a stupid mistake. He had been told to never trust Russians. Both his experience at home and in America had taught him that. But still, _still_, he had believed he could trust Dimitri Rascalov. They had been through a lot together; hunting down debtors, breaking a few legs. They had even killed Mikhail in an effort to

After filling his stomach as best he could with off-off-brand Hot Pockets and making sure he wasn't going to vomit them back up, he hobbled to the futon, pulling back the worn-out blankets. The Serb laid down without even bothering to undress, resting his head on the pillow. Roman had gone out, probably to drink away his anxiety, but Niko didn't want to do anything other than sleep.

The phone call came in right as he was closing his eyes.

It rang once, twice - only to stop right as he got his fingers around it. He released a grunt, slumping back against the mattress. But then it rang again, the screen brightening as the metal vibrated against the wood of the bedside table. For a moment, Niko almost considered throwing it across the room. The phone was Roman's, though; it wouldn't do too well to break something he had been given. So instead, he clicked the green button and brought the old piece of junk up to his ear.

A grunt was the only greeting the caller received.

"Ooh, someone's a morning person." The voice was male, aged somewhere around his early or middle twenties. And there was an accent there; European, for sure. English, perhaps? He wasn't quite sure, and it was too late to try to concentrate. "Niko Bellic?"

"Who wants to know?"

A chuckle. "Always on guard. It's almost amusing." It sounded as if the person shifted, and then there was typing in the background. Quick, rapid typing with clicks that all seemed to blur together. "You were brill today, mate. Ace, even. I have never seen such a lovely display of betrayal and anger."

"Glad to know my performance was entertaining," he grumbled, huffing out a sigh. He noted the typing. "You'd better not be tracing this fucking call. I just killed twenty Russians, that's not counting the cops, and I'm in no fucking mood to deal with any more of them."

"Oi, ease up, mate. I'm not with the cops. Actually, they have several warrants out for my arrest, so trying to work with them…" The man trailed off, and there was an awkward moment of silence. But then he resumed his talking. "I hacked into the security cameras, actually, to see the showdown. You've got quite the aim, Neek. Although I noticed you missed a certain Russian's head…"

"Don't call me Neek." There's a grunt and a groan of pain as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. "Yeah, I noticed. But you never answered my question. Who the hell are you?"

"Call me Sam. Hacker, translator, and rabid coffee addict. It's a pleasure to meet you, Neeks." A few more clicks came across the line, before the sound of tapping stopped completely. "Ah, there you are. Ooh. _Ooh._ That, um… That's not exactly the _neatest_ apartment you've been in."

The Serbian glanced around almost frantically, instinctually pulling his blankets up over his chest to cover himself, forgetting that he was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. A growl escaped him.

"That's none of your fucking business. How are you seeing me?"

"It's nothing special, really. Just a quick hack, into Mallorie's computer. She's got a webcam set up, and if I just… Ah, there we go. Ooh." His voice rose, just a little. "You've, um… Ah… Yeah, that's definitely a nice back you've got there. Makes me wanna run my nails down it. Give a few good scratches."

There was another growl, and then Niko Bellic made himself stand, his back cracking as he did. He walked to the kitchen, grabbed a rag, walked back, and draped it over the webcam.

"No watching me. I don't fucking care who you are, you respect my boundaries. What do you want?"

"Hey! Come on, now, I was enjoying the show!" Sam huffed, cracked his fingers, one at a time. "You've got quite a nice arse, actually. _But _that's not the point. From what I've seen today, you have just made yourself a very powerful enemy out of the Russian mafia. And, judging by what I know I can do well, you have also made yourself an ally. One who's in good with the Russians. Do you see where I'm going?"

He cocked an eyebrow, chewing on his inner cheek. After a moment, he muttered, "What's the catch? People like you are only in it for themselves, you must want something in return."

"What's the catch? I get revenge on the Russians and I _don't_ have to get off my fat ass to do it myself. What more of a catch do I need?" He sounded almost amused, as though he was trying to hold his laughter back. "I might ask you to grab a meal once or twice and deliver it to my lovely assistant, but otherwise, you get to kill Russians, for money, and we both get to watch the systematic downfall of Dimitri Rascalov's empire. And once it's gone, you'll have that spineless rat of a man all to yourself. Do I have your attention yet?"

More chewing. His fingers twitched. He sat back down on his futon, mulling it over.

"I will do one, _maybe_ two jobs for you. To see how we work. After that, I may continue, I may not, it depends. I've been too trusting before."

"Yeah, you're telling me. Going off and doing every little thing Dimitri asked of you is a bit too trusting, even by my tastes. But that's all in the past, I suppose. No need to fuss on a few screwballs, eh?" The typing resumed. "Move over to the computer, Niko Bellic. You'll see your instructions on the screen. It's too dangerous to say them aloud. Walls have ears, and all that nonsense." Then, quietly, "Especially when you're in the den of the enemy."

He moved to Mallorie's computer at the other man's request, shifting the rag so that it still covered the webcam without blocking the screen. His eyes skimmed the instructions; Dimitri would be receiving several hundred pounds worth of crack cocaine within the next twenty-four hours, enough cocaine to keep him in business for the next couple of months. To ensure that side of his business disappeared, Niko would have to make the cocaine disappear. It was simple enough; easy, too, considering the location. One false move, and all that coke would float gently to the bottom of the sea. Niko nodded.

"Sounds easy. How much is the pay?"

"Tell me what you think it's worth. Shouldn't be too difficult, just a few shots, a few hundred pounds of lost coke, and Dimitri's lost a huge piece of his income. Think you could even pick dinner up on the way back? I'll add in my address at the bottom."

"Will take the coke as payment, then. Can give it to a friend to sell, should make a good price. Do you want a cut?" He gave a small snort. "And fine. What kind of food?"

But the only sound that greeted his ears was the beep of the disconnected call. Instead, the words Sam was going to speak began to appear at the bottom of the screen, typed with quick precision. Niko rolled his eyes, watching them.

"_Me? Of course not. I have plenty of green stored up in various accounts across the world. It comes with being a hacker, and being good at what I do. Burger Shot, please. Two double cheeseburgers, large fries, and a coke. Perhaps even a milkshake. Oh, and get yourself and Roman something to eat. You'll receive payment for the meal at the ATM on 32nd street. Code 4475._"

He hesitated, a moment, then began to type back, each letter chicken-pecked agonizingly slow.

"_Okay. Where should I take the food? Anything else you want or need?_"

"_Stop that. You can talk, you know. The webcam is on. [Sigh.]_" There was a slight pause, a moment where nothing on the computer moved. The cursor just blipped on and off, on the last symbol. "_All right, go to Broker. The apartments near the Broker Bridge. Not the nice ones, the ones to the right. Drive to the second building. If you send me a message right as you cross the bridge, I'll send my Legs down to get the food. I think you'll like her._"

Niko ignored the instruction about the webcam. He was still pissed off about the fact that this stranger could hear and see him; he wasn't going to indulge him. He typed an, "_Okay,_" before turning the wireless on the computer off and hobbling back to his bed.

This "Sam" could wait until he'd rested for his dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This one is a little short. I'm sorry, guys!

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><p>His phone beeped halfway through the nap.<p>

Annoyed, desperate to just get some bloody rest, Niko reached over and lifted the phone from the coffee table next to him. One unread text, sent from an unknown number. For half a second, he almost contemplated not reading it. Maybe it was from Dimitri's men, or maybe it was from that "Sam" person from an hour before. Either way, they were disturbing his sleep, and he did not appreciate it. All he had wanted was a nap and the chance to forget the awful things that had occurred that day.

But… But, his mind argued, if it was from Sam, then perhaps he had new information for him. Perhaps whatever Sam had to say held the opportunity to actually bring Dimitri down. If that was the case, then it was his nap that could wait. After all, Dimitri would not wait for Niko; if anything, he would attack quickly, should he discover the Serb napping on the job.

With a groan of protest, Niko rolled over, sitting up, and read over the words.

Hey, Neeks.

Oh, great. It was the little snooper.

Good news. Super good news. Shipment's definitely going to arrive soon, so you won't have to wait long to take a leg out from under Dimitri. So, yay! :) Bad news? Well, okay, so the shipment's getting in early… Super early, actually. ...Like it arrived ten minutes ago early. Sooooo, um… You might want to get that fine ass of yours up and get to the docks as soon as you can. And don't forget to grab my dinner!

At that, Niko only had one thing to say: "God, he texts like a nineteen year old girl."

He was closing his eyes again, succumbing to sleep in the same way he did when it was too early in the morning, when what the text said clicked in his mind. Sputtering in his haste, the Serb threw off his blankets and scrambled off the pull-out couch he called his bed, reaching for his guns. He would need something more than just a pistol for this job, especially if there was as much coke there as Sam had said. Something semi-automatic; perhaps the Carbine rifle. They had been together through so much, him and that gun. It would serve him well now, as he took down Dimitri.

His phone beeped again. Niko ignored it, and instead hurried out of the apartment and down the stairs. There was another beep, then one followed by two more in quick succession. He barely had time to exit the building and slide into Roman's cab before his phone began to sing.

"What?"

"Oh, thank God." Sam's voice came through the other end of the speaker, loud and clear. He sounded relieved, and almost out of breath. "I have been trying to get in contact with you for the past five minutes. I thought you were in the bathroom or passed out drunk somewhere or…"

"No, no." Niko tried not to sound as out of breath as he felt. He put the key in the ignition, cranking up the car. "I don't drink alone. I was just… in a rush. Thank you for the warning, by the way, gave me plenty of time."

One could practically taste the sarcasm dripping off his words.

Sam huffed, annoyed. "I'm sorry. Did you want to look into the fuckin' future to get this information for you at your earliest convenience? Because I could try that next time, if you're going to cry about the tardiness of your information. Serb." This time, he sighed. "Look, I'm doing what I can, okay? It's not my fault if they try to fuck us over."

Niko sighed, heavily. "Apologies. I am just… frustrated. I will call you when the job's done, alright? Or… you call me, if you're watching. Whoever gets to the phone first."

"I'll call you. And I'll try to help, when I can." He heard a soft beeping noise, and then Sam laughed. "They put surveillance around the docks. I'm in. Keep the phone nearby; I'll try to text you, if there's anything I can do, or any way I can help. Just keep an eye out, Neeks. He's got a good ten or fifteen man crew there."

"Thank you. I'll handle it."

The line went dead again. With a sigh, he shoved the phone into his pocket.

Niko had noticed, in his years of working these sorts of jobs, that when he expected to have to kill someone, there was this sort of pressure within himself. He wouldn't call it tension, per say - it wasn't necessarily an uncomfortable feeling. On the contrary, it almost felt nice. It made his heart pump faster, his nerves tingle in excitement. Maybe the reason he was so good at what he did was that he secretly enjoyed it; or at least, a part of him did. His body did. His mind, however, always lingered on the ramifications afterwards, and on what his body's enjoyment of it suggested about who and what he was.

Niko parked Roman's cab a few blocks from the docks, knowing he'd attract a lot less attention if he went the rest of the way on foot. He adjusted the guns hidden in his coat, making sure they were secure and did not make any noticeable lumps. Once he was sure he appeared to be just another Average Joe, Niko began to walk, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring straight ahead as casually as possible, as if he wasn't about to shoot up a boat. He could not attract any attention this time; during his last mission, he had been forced to escape the police to protect Jacob, instead of going after Dimitri like he had wanted.

This time, nothing was going to stop him. He would destroy every card in Dimitri's hand, until the Russian was left with nothing but his back against the wall. It would take time; he knew that much. But all good things came to those who wait, and Niko was willing to wait as long as it took to get his revenge.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **W o w. It's been a while since I've updated, huh? Well, sorry, folks. Final year of college and all that. Anyways, if you're still with me, that's awesome! Here's the new chapter. I look forwards to hearing your thoughts.

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><p>He was barely a hundred yards away from the docks when his phone buzzed. Unsurprisingly, it was Sam.<p>

_All right. Got a bit of information here for you, _the text began. _There are ten men. Surprisingly very little, considering the shipment he's got. Perhaps he's trying to go low-profile. It doesn't matter. It just means less work for us. There are three on the boat, two on the actual dock, and five in the dock house. If you can be quiet, you might be able to get away with only taking out five of his men._

For some reason, Niko highly doubted he was going to be that lucky. He never was.

He sent back a quick, simple thank you of a text, then tucked the phone away in his pocket. Lifting the carbine in his hand, he made sure the gun was loaded, the safety off, and started towards down the dock.

The first kill was the simplest. The men outside the dock were not expecting a visitor, much less a visitor carrying a gun, and so Niko was able to catch them by surprise. There was one quick shot, a bullet through the brain, and a splash as the body fell from the docks into the water below. Unfortunately, that was going to be his only easy kill of the day. For, as soon as the shot rang out, the men were on edge, frantically looking for the source of the bullet.

Niko tucked himself away behind the corner of the dock house, taking a deep breath as he calculated his odds. He knew the men in the dock house would be coming out soon, and so he had to take out as many of the ones on the dock and in the boat as possible before they did so. That shouldn't be too difficult, given that one of the four was currently resting in the bottom of the harbor. That left three for him to pick off. He could do this. It just required three quick, precise shots.

After another moment or two of just standing there, the man took a deep breath and leveled his rifle. But then, as if thinking better of it, he placed the rifle aside. That would come later. For now, he would work with his pistol. It would be easier to fire off, to get the precise shots he needed. With the familiar weight resting in his hands, Niko stepped around the corner.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Three shots. Three loud, earth-shattering bangs. Blood splattered across the dock, dotting the pristine white of the boat. Two bullets were kill shots, but the third fell short, hitting the man through the stomach instead of the heart. The two who were felled hit the ground almost instantly, one rolling from the dock to join his companion in the water. The man who had survived the shot doubled over, one hand desperately reaching for his gun. Niko didn't wait, and instead chose to step back behind the corner of the dock house.

Now, Niko thought as he put the pistol away, it was time for the carbine. He lifted the gun back off the ground, double checked it to make sure it was ready to go. This time, he turned the safety off for good and waited. He could hear the men inside the dock house, all moving and gathering their weapons. He would only have one shot to catch them by surprise.

Keeping his back pressed against the wall, Niko raised the rifle. The footsteps got closer, until he heard the scraping of the dock house door as it opened. His phone buzzed, but he couldn't take the time to read the text. Sam could wait.

He had to _destroy_ Dimitri.

Niko stepped out from behind the corner, gun lifted to his face. There was the startled cry as one of the men noticed his movement, but it was too late. Niko already had his finger on the trigger. He fired off several shots, sweeping his gun first to the left, then to the right. Through the spray of bullets, he could hear their startled yelps. For once, the element of surprise had actually done him right. At least, that was what he thought- until a bullet passed through his shoulder.

With a scream, the man almost dropped his gun. Pain radiated from the bullet wound, which, as far as Niko could tell, was a clean shot. The bullet had entered and exited. Good. That would make it easier for clean up. But that would only make traveling home and cleaning up this shit harder.

He was about to fire off another volley of shots when the dock's PA system screeched to life. A man's voice screamed, "_There's one on the roof!_"

He just barely managed to duck inside the dock house when he heard another shot crack the silence. Sniper. Sam hadn't warned him about a sniper. Or, he thought, remembering the buzz of his phone, maybe she had tried. Fuck. Fuck, he should have checked his phone. No, there was no time to think about "should haves." The time for should haves had long sinced passed. Now, he simply had to do it. He had to attack, destroy, _kill_. He had to ruin Dimitri.

Shifting the carbine rifle onto his back, Niko looked around. He had to take out the guy on the roof first. Otherwise, he might as well kiss his ass goodbye. Luckily, in the back of the little house, the dock had a ladder that he assumed went up to the roof. Grabbing his pistol once more, he began to hurry up the rungs. He was only halfway up when he heard footsteps above him, hurrying towards the ladder. Niko slung his injured arm around the ladder, to hold on, and brought the gun up, pointing it straight above his head.

As soon as the panel opened, he fired off two quick, merciless shots. He had to turn his head to avoid getting blood on his face.

The body swayed once, unable to decide which way it was going, and then fell forwards. Niko clung to the ladder with all his strength, grunting as the body hit his back on the way down. With that taken care of, Niko continued his climb up, pausing only to lock the panel once he had reached the top of the roof. He traded the pistol for the rifle the man had left behind and moved towards the edge of the roof. His phone buzzed again.

This time, he actually bothered to look.

_Two left._ It read. _One's in the boat, trying to start it. Don't let him get away. Sorry about your shoulder._

Well, that solved the answer of which one he was going to take care of first. Lifting the sniper rifle to his face, he lined up the sights with the man's head. His finger encircled the trigger. For a brief moment, he was reminded of his time in Serbia, serving in the army. He remembered a time when he had been nothing more than a killer. Funny, even now that seemed to be the only thing he was good at. But, a living was a living, and anything that both paid well and ruined Dimitri's day was good enough for him.

With that thought in mind, he pulled the trigger. Brains and blood splattered across the front of the boat, and the body hit the floor. His lips curved upwards, forming an almost satisfied smile. Yes, killing may have been the only way he could ever make a living in the God-forsaken city, but at least he was good at it.

The last grunt was dispatched quickly, while he was fleeing up the docks. In the background, Niko could hear the approaching sirens, and he knew he had to hurry. He slid down the ladder, stepped over the body of the sniper, and ran full-speed to the boat. All he had to do was get it far enough out in the water that he could dump the drugs and then drive home. He would have to pick up another car, or at least wait until the police had left to pick his up again.

Ignoring the bodies, at least for now, Niko started the boat. He drove it about ten minutes out, into the middle of the harbor. The hard work began there. He only had one good arm by this point, as the other was in too much pain, and a hundred pounds of drugs to push off the end of the boat. He decided to take things in stride and, instead of pushing them all off, took to throwing a handful of wrapped containers at a time. It took longer, but his arm appreciated the reprieve. He dumped all but two of the bricks, choosing instead to keep those. He had told Sam he would keep a small portion for himself, after all. Once that was done, he rolled the body out of the boat, letting it join the coke in the bottom of the water, and knelt.

He had to at least clean the blood off his face. Otherwise, Roman was going to wonder what the hell had happened to him.

He didn't trust the water in the harbor, and so kept his lips pressed tightly together as he washed the blood from his face and hands, knowing that neither would truly be clean. His shirt was ruined. He would have to buy another, considering his already limited wardrobe. But he had done well, and he would be paid well for the deed. In the end, he supposed, that was all that mattered.

He drove the boat to another dock and hailed a taxi to drive him back to his car. Once he was safely back inside, his phone buzzed again.

_You did good. Go pick up your pay. Legs'll be waiting for you. _

He was about to start driving when the phone buzzed one last time.

_I'll replace the shirt._


End file.
